The Dovah Shinobi (A Naruto World Story)

Chapter One- Resurrection

"That arrogant mortal." Dull brown eyes scanned the city of Whiterun through a follower of Namira as a young light haired girl raced through the city below, short frame being chased by an elder housecarl.

She was currently in the Cloud district, sprinting away from the building known as Dragonsreach where the Jarl, the leader of the city, was housed. Eyes followed the young girl, holding fear, judgment, and a hint of awe.

How could such a child be the Dragonborn, someone meant to be our savior? They wondered.

Stone buildings decorated with swirling designs rose high above her, a small stream trickling down to her right.

"Yaminah!" The dark haired housecarl cried. The younger girl with snow for hair stopped and spun around, sticking her tongue out at the housecarl.

"How could this child become thane?" The dark eyed follower mused, the two females below oblivious to her presence.

"Lydia! You're no fun! Aren't you supposed to be following me?" As a white brow rose and arms crossed, two black tipped cat ears twitched from their place on top of the girl.

Whiterun, being a civilization almost completely populated by nords caused the girl to stand out in extreme ways, but unless her full life story was heard she would be labeled a mere outcast.

“Yaminah," Lydia panted, shaking her head lightly. "Are you sure you should be doing this? Shouldn't you at least consult someone for assistance? It isn't wise to search for your enemy when you are unprepared."

The girl known as Yaminah rolled her eyes, "Fine. Lydia, I want you to stay here. I'll have Shadowmere go with me."

The housecarl opened her mouth to protest before sighing and nodding. "Fine. Go. I'll wait back home if you need me." With armor clinking and the sheathed sword at her side tapping her leg Lydia began to venture home, unaware of the true fate that would fall upon the Dragonborn.

The brown eyes of the silent watcher slowly melted to a bright gold flecked with red, smirk stretching their features.

"That fool will learn what happens when you defy me at my own feast."

--

“Shadowmere.” The voice with a slight rasp to it called the black horse’s attention, the matching eyes meeting. “Can you smell Delphine yet? We were supposed to meet her by now.”

The former blade had recently contacted the Dragonborn during her travels, only providing a letter with a date and location along with the word ‘burial’.

Yaminah, with knowledge of the previous meetings she had had with the blade, assumed this meant that there was a dragon burial she discovered.

A dragon burial that may soon be emptied.

Unfortunately the last time they found a burial they were too late to stop it and were forced to fight, Yaminah almost having her ear cut off and gaining a long scar down her cheek over her right eye.

The horse simply released a low noise that Yaminah took as a ‘no’.

“Fine. She better hurry before I leave. I still have to tell Brynjolf I finished that job.” She placed a hand to her chin in thought. “Although I haven’t seen the wolf brothers or Aela in a while… and I’m pretty sure Nazir wanted to talk to me… Ah, the Dark Brotherhood can wait. They’ve lasted this long.” She waved a hand dismissively to the undead horse, a black tipped ear twitching lightly.

“I wouldn’t have assumed you would join the ranks of assassins.” A feminine voice called behind her. Yaminah spun, a grin stretching her features wide.